Doorstep
by Jane Moss
Summary: CHAPTER 8! Grissom finds Sara on his doorstep... literally! GS of course! Please review!
1. On My Doorstep

DISCLAIMER:  No copyright violation intended. Characters = not mine. *pout!*

Doorstep

By Jane Moss

What was she doing here? Her rational side kept telling her to turn back _right now_ if she was to stop herself looking like a fool. But how much worse could it be now? She couldn't force herself to go into her own apartment. Sara had spent almost half an hour sitting in her car and staring through her windshield. Nobody was home waiting for her anyway.

Then she drove and ended up here. Her eyes stung in protest as she once again resumed staring into the darkness before her. Droplets on her windshield slid down the glass like tears. Images of the victim flashed in her mind. She was no older than 15 and already raped and beaten to death and dumped in an alleyway. She remembered the tears of her parents. She remembered the angry black bruising on her cold pale skin. Sara had just pulled a double shift with little nourishment and her body was becoming limp and heavy under her. No DNA. No fingerprints. Killer walks free. 

She needed to get out of the car now if she wanted to go anywhere, as soon she would be too weak and tired to walk. The world spun around her as she got up a little too fast and Sara leaned into the side of her car until her vision cleared and the ringing in her ears subsided. She hadn't had a decent meal in days. Only when she was out did she notice the heavy drops of rain hitting hard against her skin.

She half crawled up the steps when it became too difficult to walk straight and clung to the railing for her support. Not a second thought before her knuckles met the hard wood door. Only seconds later did her eyes finally open and she desperately wished no one was home. 

No sound. She let out a breath she was holding and the torture returned. She couldn't help getting personally involved in that case. It wasn't an option. Slowly, Sara's tired body slid down until she was sitting on the doormat with her back against the wooden barrier. An empty apartment wasn't her wish anymore. Here she was feeling sorry for a victim, when she didn't have a soul to comfort _her_. Las Vegas, with all the sparkling lights and all the people offering friendship and yet no one was there with her.

She couldn't stop the tears slowly sliding down, leaving hot trails on her cheeks. Why was she alone every day? She knew exactly why. It was the same reason she had come to Vegas. Suddenly angry, she hit the door harder with one hand, knowing that all she was doing was hurting herself. He was at work. How could she have not thought of that? Her car was too far away now to attempt retracing her steps.

Click. _What the hell?_ "Oww…" She found her self on the floor as the door pulled open. She closed her eyes as the dull ache settled itself in the back of her head.

"Oh, Sara…" Warm hands were around her face. "What happened?" She couldn't look into his eyes. How could she possibly explain why she'd just fell through his door? He was saying something else. "I thought I misheard…" He was touching her cold hands now, letting his slow warmth seep away. "I looked… I didn't see anyone there…" He trailed off as he realised he was speaking to calm himself more than anything else. With one arm under her knees and the other under her back, he lifted her up and shut the door with his foot. How could have not noticed how light she had become? The signs were all there. He tried to crush the worry arising within him as he stole another glance at her pale face. She still had not opened her eyes to him.

Gently he placed her down on his sofa and ran into the other room for a blanket. He wasn't sure if she was aware of shivering. What was she thinking, sitting at his cold porch at night, her clothes wet from the rain? She was supposed to be at home in bed. Without thought, his hands started rubbing her arms over the blanket in an attempt to warm her through friction and in a moment of hesitation he leaned over her gently covering her body with his. She was still shivering so he pressed her down a bit harder, desperate to get her warm, as his arms went around her. 

She smelled so good. He wanted to hit himself for thinking of such things in her time of need. After a few long minutes, her body became still and she could feel his hot breath at her neck. Sara smiled, despite herself, as his embrace unleashed another kind of warmth to spread through her, inside and out. She hoped it would never end. She knew better than that…

He made a move to get up, when her hands wrapped themselves around his back and she clung to him as if her life depended on it. He couldn't suppress a shaky breath and pulled them both a bit higher up the armrest of the sofa. It was so warm in her arms. He could feel his heart thudding hard inside his chest. Only she could bring out such powerful reactions in him. 

_Just a little longer…_ That was all he could hear going through his mind. Nobody would find out. Nobody would know. This moment was outside of time. A moment when she was his and he was hers. Alone. Nobody else.

"Grissom," she whispered so softly, he had to strain in order to hear her and not for the first time, thanked any deities he could think of for restoring his hearing. The sound of her voice was worth it all.

"I…" he could seem to find his voice, "I'm here"

They let go and each immediately regretted the loss of contact. She had no idea how to explain herself, as she met his questioning gaze. The man refuses dinner, then runs off for a month, only to come back acting as if nothing had happened. His feelings were abundantly clear and still she pushed herself towards his door. She was a fool to believe otherwise.

"What are you doing here?" He could have slapped himself for how cold it sounded.

Another pitch of sadness settled on her face. "I don't know" She almost cried, but instead relaxed her face completely against the pain inside.

His expression remained detached, like the same blank page. He let out a deep breath, remembering the words 'I don't know what to do about this'. For that is exactly how he felt right now. "You're supposed to be at home, Sara"

This time he actually saw her eyes glisten and he hated himself more than ever for pushing her away. He hurt her again. She felt his words push the blade deeper into her wounded heart, as she struggled to get up, before the tears started flowing. Who was she kidding? Nobody needed her. He might have as well said, 'Get outta here'.

She had just barely managed to turn her face away from him when the first hot tears scorched her skin and fell to her lap with a definite 'tap tap'. "I'll go. You don't want me here. I'll go". Where? _Where_ would she go? As she slid herself from his sofa, her legs didn't support her and she plunged to the floor, when a strong pair of arms caught her before she could hit the ground.

"God, Sara…" she heart him whisper. But it was all a dream from there and she was falling deeper into sleep, until his voice faded from her consciousness.

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Please review… it inspires my muse to be a happy bunny so I can write more stuff! Thanks! – J.M.:)


	2. Mornings Like These

DISCLAIMER:  No copyright violation intended. Characters = not mine. *pout!*

Doorstep

By Jane Moss

She slept twelve hours straight. All through the night, until the sun's orange glow seeped onto the dark sky and the first light hit her closed eyes. Subconsciously burying herself in a pillow she felt something was out of place. The scent. She raised her head sharply and stared at the bed accusingly, while her vision cleared. Her heart started to beat faster when she realised she had never been in this room before. Where was she? _Grissom_. The previous evening came crushing back. 

She let herself relax back onto the bed as the dull pain she tried to suppress, came back. She just needed a little diversion right now. Burying her face in his pillow, she slowly inhaled his soft, natural scent and tried to store it in her memory. For a moment she let her mind dream she actually belonged here in this warm bed. _His_ bed. 

Where was he? She noted that he must have preferred the couch to sharing the same bed with her. That stung. As she made a move to get up, Sara stared down at herself in shock. She was in her underwear under the sheets. He had _undressed_ her? She could feel blood rushing to her face at the thought. May be she had not been imagining things after all.

Her clothes were neatly folded on a chair. She smirked. She was about to make her way towards them, when his black bathrobe caught her attention. _You only live once_. Putting it on against her bare skin brought a sigh and she decided it was worth it, even if it was the only time she would wear his clothes. If he asks, she never saw her clothing. 

Opening the bedroom door, she ventured outside, only to find his apartment empty. '_Couldn't even stand the thought of being in the same flat as me, could you?_' On the other hand…

She pushed the sadness aside and decided that this was her chance. If he didn't want to stay long enough for her to wake up – and he didn't even have to let her sleep here, for that matter – then she had the right to look around. She wasn't _snooping_ around, since technically everything was out in the open. She grinned dryly for a moment, before heading towards his bookshelves. 

Bugs, bugs, bugs… Ooo – astronomy, forensics… She moved onto another shelf. Shakespeare. So that's where he got all those quotes? Did he memorise them while sitting alone at home on his day off? That sounded too much like her. After that she looked over his CD collection and then finally his computer desk. Now she wished she hadn't made that promise to herself only to look at what's in the open. A computer was open… sort of.  A letter caught her attention. She knew she shouldn't - Grissom was touchy about personal stuff. It was lying flat on his desk, beckoning her to read.

_"Mr. Grissom…_

_…I'm glad you're recovering well from the surgery… _ What the hell? _ … Remember, to keep away from loud places for at least another two weeks. No strenuous activities for another month, until everything heals. _ What? What heals? _ I would like to take the liberty to make a last appointment for you, three weeks from now to check your hearing one last time…"_

Hearing? Surgery? Suddenly the pieces fell into place. 

_"I look forward to seeing you soon… Dr. Karen Roth…"_

Sara sat down on the nearest chair, stunned. She couldn't believe she hadn't figured it all out before. She _suspected_, but never thought to voice it, just in case she was wrong.  At that moment, Grissom chose to push his key in the lock and she dropped the letter, running towards the other end of the room in panic. Her heart started to beat faster as she saw him in the hall. She deliberated whether to shout 'Hey! Good morning!' or to remain silent until he finds her.

Sara slipped into the kitchen quietly. She was going to be elusive for as long as possible. For now she was busy making coffee. That wasn't a crime was it? Suddenly, she did not want to face his hurtful remarks anymore. All he could tell her was to go home. What would such a private person think of finding her in his bathrobe? Then again he did put her into his bed. The knowledge that he must have undressed her still lingered in the back of her mind but she knew if she mentioned anything he'd only give her a clinical description of what happened. The dread refused to leave and she noticed her breathing becoming shallow, as she desperately tried to calm it down, before she was discovered. She should have been a smart girl and slipped out while he was away.

Any minute he would just walk in and tell her to go. He was probably already standing in the doorway. '_Don't turn around! Don't turn-_' She forced herself to remain calm and after a deep breath turned to face the door sharply. Nothing. Tentatively she made her way towards it. '_Where was he?_'

Bumping into something soft, she screamed and jumped back. His eyes still held his shock. They stood staring at each other, neither sure of what to say. His eyes travelled down her length and she shifted under his gaze. He didn't know why he found such pleasure to see her in his clothing.

After the silence stretched on too long, he ventured, "Good morning" Then added, "Sara"

"Um… hey," she replied without much joy. Was that… concern she saw in his eyes?

"Sara, why don't you sit down?"

"I'm fine"

"You're pale. Have you eaten anything?"

Concern didn't mean much when it was forced. She wished he would just give up the act and let her go already.

"I'm going home" She regretted it as soon as it left her mouth. One thought of her cold apartment was much worse than where she was now. She pushed her personal feelings aside. He didn't want her here. There was nothing worse than an unwelcome visitor.

"You're not going anywhere, until you've had something to eat." His tone offered no room for argument. He was surprised by his own boldness and decided not to push his luck, as he turned around and busied himself in the kitchen.

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WOW! I never had so many reviews for one chapter in my entire life! LOL! Thank you all so much! *bows* Glad you liked the beginning… (personally, I can't believe my writing is any good!) My muse seems to co-operate at the moment, but she's pretty unpredictable… so you know what to do… lol! – J.M.:)


	3. Quiet Breakfast

DISCLAIMER:  No copyright violation intended. Characters = not mine. *pout!*

Doorstep

By Jane Moss

"You're not going anywhere, until you've had something to eat." His tone offered no room for argument. He was surprised by his own boldness and decided not to push his luck, as he turned around and busied himself in the kitchen.

She stood on the spot uncertainly. He hadn't told her to take off the bath robe. Soundlessly, she made her way to the counter and slid on top of one of the tall chairs. As far as she was concerned, she was just going to sit here, dressed in his robe, and bask in his glow. '_Look, but don't touch._' He never failed to bring out a warm longing inside her, and as she diverted all of her attention to his skilful hands, she wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him.

"Do you like muesli?" he asked, needing to reassure himself. One can never be too careful of what she might like.

"Yeah, sounds good," she replied. So far he had done a good job of avoiding her gaze entirely. She remembered a few weeks ago she had asked him to breakfast and he brushed her off with a pathetic excuse that he had paperwork. When he softly placed the warm bowl in front of her, their eyes met and held for the longest time. He had to physically pull himself away from her deep brown gaze. She was always so dangerous. Altogether far too tempting for him. 

"Thanks," she said as he joined her with his own dinner of the same muesli. It got the planned reaction as their eyes locked once more. How long was he going to keep this up?

They ate in silence. She felt an odd sense of comfort at having his company. At the same time, they both felt the tension between them like a taut string, about to snap. She realised she didn't have an appetite after all and left the bowl half empty. They both stared into space, before she got up and his head turned sharply. She wondered if he would read her a lecture on why she should eat more, but he remained silent.

"I better get home now," she said, trying to disguise the sadness.

"You don't have to go…"

If only he wasn't simply being polite.

"You're tired. Better go to bed, Grissom," she said flatly, before going to his bedroom to change into her day clothes. When the robe fell from her shoulders, she felt herself shiver. She knew there was no going back now, as she looked longingly onto the rumpled sheets and her mind produced a mental image of him there, like a cruel joke. Her own garments failed to give her the comfort she sought. Looking back at the bed, she made an attempt to straighten the sheets out a little.

"Grissom," she said quietly, "thanks" She looked long into his eyes, meaning the single word of gratitude. Even if he didn't have any feelings for her, he still somehow managed to create the impression that somebody cared. Even if it was all in her head. She looked down, taking his silence as an answer, before heading for the door. With a definite 'click', she locked herself outside his domain and regretfully made her way towards her car. 

How could the man not realise how happy he could make them both, if he just gave her a chance? She shook her head. He probably couldn't wait to get rid of her. It wasn't his fault she chose to fall in love with him all those years ago. If only he didn't lead her on… Her mind drifted back to how Grissom had looked at her when he found out about Hank. She could almost see pain in his eyes. She must have imagined it. May be there really were no signs. 

Only when she exited his building did she kick herself for forgetting to ask him about the surgery. How could she forget about something so important? She wanted to kick herself.

* * *

Grissom's eyes followed her car until it disappeared from his sight and only then did he lean back into the couch and rub his hands over his tired eyes. Why didn't he say something? He kept mentally pushing himself to talk, but his body would not comply. He lived alone for most of his life. He almost couldn't feel the loneliness anymore. _Almost_. Her presence erased everything he ever tried to believe and left him craving for even a minute more.

Sighing, he got up and in a few moments fell into bed, hoping sleep would offer him some comfort. Her scent still lingered all around him. He smiled sadly at how easily she managed to unleash his dormant emotions. After a few laborious minutes of trying to change the subject of his thoughts, he gave up and surrendered to his memories of Sara. She had always been too perfect to resist. He could never live up to that perfection and before soon everything could be over. Sara ran deep. Loosing her was not an option. At that moment he realised once again how much he wished he had invited her to stay with him. At that moment, he knew that everything had changed – he couldn't keep this unresolved. Whatever a resolution might bring. 

On the other side of town Sara hugged a pillow to herself, wishing it were a warm body beside her.

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More soon – JM:)


	4. Working Nights

DISCLAIMER:  No copyright violation intended. Characters = not mine. *pout!*

Doorstep

By Jane Moss

Between her latest science magazine and Nicky's playful comments, Sara almost felt good. There were times when she could forget. Grissom cleared his throat and she instantly knew that time was over. She glanced at the assignments in his hand. Was he going to send her out solo again?

"Catherine, Nick. You got a 419 at the Monico. Warrick – missing person. Last seen on security camera in her company parking lot. Sara, you're with me"

She looked up, her surprise unmasked. After a moment she still hadn't spoken.

"Unless, you'd like to help Greg run those dirt samples…" he offered innocently.

"No way! Talk about choice…" she muttered, following him, until he abruptly entered his office. She looked at him in confusion.

"Paperwork"

"PAPERwork?" _Guess the choice was fair then. _

"You can always help Greg," he suggested and before she had time to reply, his tone changed completely. "I realised we haven't worked together for a while." _Oh, you just realised that NOW?_ "I didn't want you to think I was ignoring you." She stared at him in shock for voicing such honesty. Just when she thinks she knows him, he becomes something else altogether. She still hadn't replied. Had he said something wrong? "I left Catherine with paperwork last time," he offered as an apology.

"Let's do it!" Her smile slowly faded as the tedious work began. She almost felt sorry for Grissom. Being stuck in his office for hours, doing administration, instead being the brilliant criminalist he really was. After what seemed like hours, his pager went off.

Their eyes met - his sparkling with anticipation, hers questioning. 

"We've got a dead body"

"Alright!" They both stood up at the same time and walked briskly to the parking lot. 

* * *

Sara looked down at the victim sadly. There was so much blood. She got the camera ready. Somebody slashed his face up pretty bad. Two full body shots. The skin on his face was so lacerated - it was almost removed altogether. Three close ups of the face. Like somebody wanted to take his identity. A shot of defence wounds on the wrist. "To make him disappear," she said quietly. Her face set in determination, as she examined the scene and collected evidence.

"What was that?" Grissom's voice came from behind her.

"He was dumped here," she stated. When Grissom watched her intently, waiting for explanation, she continued. "His upper class business suit-" she indicated in the direction of the ripped pieces of what was once an expensive suit "-he didn't belong in this bad neighbourhood."

"Yeah, and there's also not nearly enough blood on the pavement to suggest he was killed here," Grissom added.

"Such a hate crime takes privacy," she looked down the road, "Anyone walking down this street would have seen it."

"What makes you think this was a hate crime?"

"Such violence is unusual in hit and run cases…I bet he knew the killer, if only briefly…"

"Unusual isn't impossible-"

"Yeah, we don't rule anything out," Sara repeated the same old line.

"But in this case…" Grissom's eyes suddenly got drawn to something on the body and she followed his gaze. He picked up a pair of tweezers and pulled a small piece of fabric free from where it was caught on the man's belt buckle. He held it up for further comparison and then brought it to his nose and took a sniff. "Perfume" Their eyes locked.

* * *

The case wrapped up, Grissom sat at his desk, supporting his head in his palms. He could feel a headache start. If he didn't try to relax right now, it might progress into a migraine. He dreaded the pain on top of everything else.

It had been so utterly easy to work with Sara again. It was almost as if they worked together everyday for the last three years. When he worked with her, he could almost forget what it's like to work with anyone else. He knew he would need to do something about 'this' soon, but everything in his power would be done to prolong that time a little more. Just a little longer to sort things out. Why was everything about her so confusing?

'_Just think about 'this' as an experiment, Gil_' Alright. Question: what would she do if he asked her to have breakfast? Possible responses: "No", "I'm busy", "Sure". Prediction: -

"Hey, you still working?"

Great timing. A grin threatened to appear, but he kept it skilfully hidden. "I was just finishing." _Better look at the desk, or you'll lose your objective_. How shall he ask?

"You… uh…wanna get something to eat?" she asked, looking straight at him. The urge to grin was stronger. She was two steps ahead of him. Just when she was about to reassure him it was not a date, he spoke.

"Yeah," he paused, "you know a place?" _That's it – keep it casual_.

She smiled at him then. It was infectious. Surely all too good to be real.

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More soon… subject to that muse of course! – JM:)


	5. Come With Me

Doorstep

By Jane Moss

When they arrived at the café, Sara became distant and he had to momentarily wonder what he could have done this time. The insects were so much easier to dissect. May be he should have taken her somewhere more special?

They ordered and made their way over to a table. She knew she was probably looking grim and made her best attempt to hide it. _The man finally goes for breakfast with you and you're being moody_. Should she mention the surgery or not? He didn't tell her before, and from the looks of it, he wasn't planning to do so later. Would he be mad at her for finding out? Would he think she went through his desk while he was away at work? She would hate for him to think of her like that.

He didn't know what to talk about. He stopped himself from asking the first thing which came to mind. After all, how could he ask her about the case he was working with her? The harsh Nevada sun was rising fast in the sky and creeping closer to their table.

"So," Grissom said, hoping she would initiate some conversation.

"Grissom, why did you leave?"

He looked confused for a moment. "What?" It was easier to avoid this conversation altogether.

"A few weeks ago. You know what I mean." Her tone was serious. No playing around.

His mouth opened, but he had not yet composed anything to tell her. His mind was a jumble of words and he could not sort them into appropriate sentences.

"I left on personal business," he paused, "Catherine should have told you that."

"She did," Sara said unconvinced, "But I'm asking _you_. I want you to answer me." She looked hard at him, daring him to lie to her. 

He swallowed. He always knew she had the power to beat anyone into a corner. Such an unusual gift. He was admiring her even when he was on the receiving end.

"Catherine told you correctly – it _was_ personal business."

"Damn it, Grissom!" Her fists hit the table and she fell back into her chair, letting out a long exasperated breath. Could he be any more elusive?

Something inside him, told him she knew more than she let on. He pushed it away. It's better not to think like that. He looked down at his coffee. Neither of them was enjoying breakfast.

Sara felt tired for the first time since she left the building. The emotionally heavy case and the long hours were catching up to her. At the moment she wanted nothing more than to drop all the pleasantries. It was all complicated enough. It was all difficult enough. She couldn't do this alone.

"I'd like to go home." …_with you_. Obviously talking was not something they could do today. Too many walls still up. _Oh, Grissom, Grissom, Grissom. When will be the day?_

He wanted to say something to stop her but instead nodded and got up. She followed him slowly, her mood shifting again. She might have been tired, but there was still one thing left to do. Not here.

She let herself examine his face with all the intensity she wanted too, as she followed him to the car. There was something curious just beneath the surface. _What are you hiding, Grissom? What is it you _want_?_ She felt herself love him despite everything he had done to hurt her over the years. He had such a curious intellect and she found herself wishing, not for the first time, for even a moment in his thoughts. Like a moth, she kept coming back for more, no matter how much the flames stung.

She did not see the people. Did not see the bright lights on the buildings of Las Vegas. Grissom was in the car and his focused gaze lingered on the road. The buildings going past were but a blur. For the first time since they left, he looked at her and she could see his desperation. Had he given up so soon? On impulse she wanted to cup his cheek, if only to see his surprise. She let a small half smile linger on her lips, despite herself, as she averted her eyes. Let that confuse him. Let that linger as a question mark in his mind, for that is how it was going to be, would they get a chance to start anything. Only if he was prepared to delve into the wondrous world of unknown. 

She only realised they'd stopped when he turned off the soft hum of the engine and looked down. She could feel it was close to the end. Whatever happened now, would have to end her torment. She had lived it for three long years.

"Walk me to my door," she said softly.

He was about to protest, but instead got out and opened the car door for her. It was going to be harder to let go so close to her personal space, knowing he couldn't cross the line. All the feelings he had tried to shield from himself and Sara were slowly seeping out with every step closer he took. The silence was uneasy. It was tension. She tried to absorb the moment. _You never know when your life is going to change._

It had to be now.

"Sara… I…" Her deep brown gaze made it even harder. He didn't want her to go and shut him out forever. "I need to tell you so many things." It was so hard to force the words out. "But I…"

"Please don't say 'but'. You either tell me or you don't." She slid the key into the lock, smoothly turning the mechanism. The door swung open and she stood to the side, daring him to make a step. Her heart thumped loudly in her own ears as she readied herself for a painful rejection. "I would like you to come in." She didn't know where she had found the courage to utter the words, but they sounded weak even to her. "Only if you want to," she warned. The ball was in his court. He gulped audibly, also realising the true significance of crossing the boundary of her door.

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I'm probably going to finish this soon. Lets see how it goes then! Thank you again, for the wonderful reviews! You people are the BEST! Keep them coming of course! My muse needs food for the next chappy! – JM:)


	6. The Bathrobe

Doorstep

By Jane Moss

"I would like you to come in." She didn't know where she had found the courage to utter the words, but they sounded weak even to her. "Only if you want to," she warned. The ball was in his court. He gulped audibly, also realising the true significance of crossing the boundary of her door.

She could see the indecision in his eyes. The pros and cons were like a battle in his mind. This could change everything. Things could spin out of control. Was that really bad? Some part of him longed to lose control. He had been so reserved and cautious for so many years. He had wasted so much time already. But if he came and left, she might never open up to him again. No second chances. Life really was a roller coaster. 

He pushed everything from his mind and before he knew it, he had made it over the barrier. He turned back in shock, only to see her smiling coyly before joining him in her hall and closing the door behind them. He was in her domain now. She imagined now she could do with him as she pleased. Altogether the thought seemed tempting, but not to the part of her mind that was still rational.

He still hadn't moved. "I'm gonna go change…" _Into what?_ He looked at her sharply. "These clothes smell of that crime scene. I wouldn't want to wear them longer than absolutely necessary," she smiled as he visibly relaxed a bit. "You can sit down in the living room."

As she disappeared down the hall, he felt a little more at ease to explore and familiarise himself in her apartment. There was so much Sara here, that he was finding it difficult to concentrate on the books on her shelves. Even the air smelled of her. He inhaled, inwardly savouring it, before sitting down on the couch gently. 

"You mind if I take a quick shower first?" he heard her call.

He gulped audibly at the images, which came to mind. "No, take your time."

After a while, he realised his fingers were softly drumming on the armrest. He must have been nervous. What exactly was he anticipating? He could feel his eyes sting from excessive use of the computer, and let himself relax his head back. Just for a little while. He was tired. Not at all ready for an emotional situation such as this one. He knew he would say something wrong and find yet another way to ruin this perfect setting before it had time to blossom.

He was aware of something touching his hair softly and turned his head automatically to give more access. It was not until her second hand cupped his cheek and slid slowly to his neck, did he realise he must have fallen asleep. His eyes opened sharply but it took him a while to focus on the woman in front of him. He was surprised when her hands didn't move away before he could fully wake up, but instead continued their slow exploration of his skin. He looked at her with some surprise and she halted her movements.

"Sorry, are you awake now?" she offered taking her hands away before a blush could grace her cheeks. _She wanted to touch him?_ This wasn't just about waking him up, was it? His mind reeled. His thoughts stopped altogether when he caught sight of her attire. The bathrobe left a large proportion of her legs uncovered and he earned to touch her silky skin. As she turned, he could see the groove of her breast in the opening of the bathrobe and Grissom immediately shut his eyes and willed himself to think of anything else. He felt like a scolded child. All he was aware of was his mouth going dry just from the sight of her. Was she trying to seduce him?

Sara smiled at the effect on him and left for the bedroom to change. It was only fair he should be able to think straight. She couldn't stop the grin from spreading across her face, as she changed into normal clothes. The man was good at playing cold… but not _that _good. It was so hard to resist straddling him on that sofa. She pushed those thoughts aside forcefully. This was not the time. Breakfast had just proved that there was a lot still unresolved between them. Too much, in fact. 

Before she had time to pull on her top, her cell phone went off, causing her to jump. Who could _that_ be? She looked distastefully at the caller display.

In the next room, Grissom picked up his own pager and dialled his cell.

"Brass"

"Did you page me?"

"We got a double homicide at the canal and Ecklie's short staffed." Grissom sighed at the thought of returning for another long shift. "Look, I know you don't like Ecklie, but there's lots of creepy crawly bugs over here. Someone needs to take a look…"

"Give me the address. I'll be there in 20 minutes," Grissom said reluctantly leaving his warm spot on the sofa.

"Oh and get someone to come with you. It's a large scene to process"

"I'll call Catherine - "

"Catherine's with Linsey," Brass informed, "Oh and Nick said he just worked 14 hours. I couldn't get hold of Warrick."

"Fine" With that, Grissom ended the call and tentatively went deeper into her apartment. 

"Sara? Are you down here?"

 She opened the door and emerged right in front of him. "We got a double shift, heh?"

"I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to talk," he said, inwardly not at all sorry and yet regretful to leave her home.

She took hold of his forearm before he could turn away. "And that's _it_?" He could tell by her tone she was becoming irritated. It really wasn't his fault.

"I'll come back here later, if you want, but I hardly think we'll be in any shape to talk."

"You let me worry about that." After grabbing her sunglasses, they both walked out into the harsh Nevada sun and with a definite click, the door locked behind them.

*        *         *         *         *

Okay, see! I wrote the next chapter… _relatively_… fast! Sorry I keep dragging it on, but it's just more fun to play with the tension. I'm sure it will get resolved someday! Hehehe! Thank you again for the lovely reviews! Keep them coming!  – JM:)


	7. Another Case

Doorstep

By Jane Moss

"We took the prints," Brass glanced at his notepad, "Husband and wife: Elaine and Richard Stevens, found by passers-by."

Sara pushed aside the thought of her comfy bed, as she crouched down at the woman's body.

"There are some restraint marks around her wrists," she said, taking a few snapshots, "and the ankles."

She looked over at Grissom and wondered if he heard her at all.

"I think based on the small scratches on the man's fists, I'd make a bet at who was dominative in this relationship."

They spent just a moment longer than necessary in each other's eyes. Back to work. "I think there's no such thing as a dominative/submissive relationship. It's either equal and respectful or it's slavery. I hate control freaks." She didn't know why she was sharing.

"Most people are responsible for what happens to them," Grissom looked over the man's ripped pocket, "we don't judge - we just analyse the evidence"

Sara couldn't help smiling briefly, even with a dead body in front of her. "With you around, I doubt anyone needs to waste paper on the job description!"

He didn't react for a moment and she scolded herself for such a bad joke. It wasn't her fault she didn't get her 8 hours of sleep. He turned to her and smiled very slightly. "Why, thank you, Miss Sidle."

She shook her head, getting back to the work. Somehow, working with him was still close. It was the kind of closeness most couples never achieve. Couples? That's what they were? She let out a breath. _Don't go so fast, Sidle_. If you expect too much, you'll only be disappointed with what you _do_ get.

* * *

Grissom shut his eyes for a moment. The bright glow of the computer screen, made them sting under his lids. He went over records for the couple in the last month. A few hotel reservations. Were they trying to rekindle their marriage? When you're out of love, you know it and there's nothing you can do about it. Just like when you are _in_ love. His mind drifted. You just _know_ it. 

What's this? Lady Heather was involved? The bank transactions suggested as much. He sat back and exhaled. May be he could just send Brass to interrogate her. Brass may not pick everything up. A cop could overlook incriminating evidence. He remembered the last time and how the rumours had spread. Didn't people have anything better to do than speculate something so improbable. He hoped the people he worked with, knew him well enough not to think twice about it. He wondered if Sara heard as well. Did she trust him? What had he done lately to show her trust?

Suddenly his eyes got drawn to a moving shape. A fairly large butterfly was free in his office. He blinked and briefly wondered if some of his specimens could have come back to life and taken the pin out of itself. It looked almost clashing against the mechanical background of the lab. He stood up and came closer, but before he could examine it, the elusive beauty fluttered out of the room and left him pursuing its natural red and black wings down the hall. He didn't see where he was going. All he knew was that the curiosity inside him had to be satisfied.

He half-ran before stopping sharply at the doorway to the lab. Sara was bent over the microscope and the red butterfly was perched on her back, fluttering it's wings lazily, almost teasing him. He swallowed at the thought of touching Sara. This wasn't why he was going ahead with this, was it? Slowly he came forward, as not to startle Sara or the butterfly. His hand came closer to her back, when he heard faint humming coming from the brunette. He could do this. He could. He hovered his hand close to her skin. Her attention was diverted from the microscope. Somehow she knew it was him, but kept herself still, curious at to what he would do.

His slow heat seeped through the thin fabric of her shirt and they both caught their breath at the physical contact. He forced himself to focus on the butterfly, easily identifying it and smiling at his own skill. He inched his hand closer to it, running it slowly up her back, but before he came within an inch of it, the butterfly left off and disappeared down the hallway. He let it go. May be it would find its freedom for at least a few more days.

When Sara moved slightly, to look at him over her shoulder, he realised his hand had not left her back. Reluctantly he pulled away and tried to think of something to say quickly, before his cheeks would have time to blush. How would she look at him if he told her there was a butterfly on her back? He saw a mental picture of her sceptical raised eyebrow and resisted smiling.

"Sorry," he mumbled. His voice sounded rough and he cleared his throat, "some dust on your back." He touched her again, as if wiping it away, as casually as he could under the circumstances. May be he touched her just longer than necessary. Then she turned, her back straight and her small breasts very prominent in the tight shirt.

"Any more dust… anywhere?" Her deep gaze bore right through him.

"Uh…" He shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, no. No. That's it, I guess…" Sara couldn't help the small grin from spreading across her face. He looked so nervous. They were at work after all. Just some casual flirting. He could still feel his hand burning from the touch of her soft skin, even through a layer of fabric.

"So, what did you find?" she decided to change the subject.

He took a moment before he could respond.

"Well," he started walking back towards his office, beckoning her to follow him, "It turns out both Mr and Mrs Stevens were clients of Lady Heather-" Sara looked up at him sharply. "I pulled up the bank records and it shows three transactions in the last month."

Sara was silent, no longer meeting his gaze. He knew what he was about to suggest could turn out very good or very bad. It was a risk. A risk of hurting Sara again… But if she stayed here to speculate, wouldn't the chances be worse?

"I'd like you to come with me…" She caught his gaze.

"I don't think that'll be a good idea."

So she _did_ actually suspect? The prospect hurt him somewhat and he wished she had seen it in his eyes at that moment.

"There's no one else who can do it. Brass went home two hours ago."

She let out an exasperated breath. "Fine." Why had she agreed to this? She didn't want to see the – "Meet me at the car."

*        *         *         *         *

Okay, I know I'm going around in circles and playing with the sexual tension, but bear with me! I want to resolve that LH once and for all! Thanks again for the lovely reviews!  – JM:)


	8. Interlude

Doorstep

By Jane Moss

The only sound in the car was the soft hum of the engine and the softened sounds of the activities outside. The windows were rolled up against the cold night air and Grissom tried fruitlessly to focus his eyes on the road. He could feel his body screaming for rest, as he fought to keep his eyes open. This time, when he glanced at Sara, he found she had leaned to the side with her head resting on the window. At the next traffic light, he leaned over and pulled a few strands of hair back as carefully as he could. Her eyes were closed and he now realised her breathing was calm and steady, as she drifted further into sleep.

He would take her home. They had worked for a double shift already. They were not robots after all. He silently kicked himself as he realised that he once again let her work to the point of exhaustion. Lady Heather could wait. And the case would have to wait.

He pulled up at her apartment building and turned off the engine, sitting still for a moment. It was very _tempting_ to close his eyes just for a moment, but he knew that sleep would overtake. Getting out, he tried to shut the door as quietly as he could as not to wake her. The click sounded loud to his ears, but Sara hadn't moved. He had to support her from the side as soon as he opened her door, as she was leaning heavily on it. Even in this sleep-deprived state, he could think of nothing else but how good it was to touch her. Slowly and gingerly, he slid one arm beneath her knees and the other under her upper back. She felt surprisingly heavy in his arms, though he knew it had something to do with the exhaustion. For the second time that week he found himself carrying her to the bedroom. As he thought of it, he found the idea suggestive and decided to leave it at that.

As gently as he could, in his state, Grissom placed her in the middle of the bed and let himself fall next to her, as his legs gave out. Only for a minute. Then he would leave. The bed was soft. He had to leave _soon_. And it was firm enough to support his body, which at that moment felt like it weighed a tonne. The thoughts were slowing down, as he slid off his jacket to prevent the hard items in the pockets from jabbing at his ribs. Just a little longer. One arm slid around the warm body next to him and it all went dark.

* * *

He could not remember when it last felt this good. May be it never did? Grissom could not pinpoint the exact instigator of such a pleasant feeling. Whatever it was, he had to keep it. Half asleep, his arms drew her closer and he let out a sigh, as more of her scent enveloped him.

Sara's eyes snapped open and she instinctively froze. It was warm. She was on her back with her arms around… _Oh God – it was Grissom_! He was on his side, leaning into her suggestively, with his head on her shoulder and his even breaths brushing the sensitive skin of her neck. His arm was hugging her around the waist. They were so close. They were practically lying on top of each other! She gasped slightly as he pulled her even closer and she could feel her breast press firmly into his chest. He mumbled something incoherent. He must have still been asleep. That didn't deter her thoughts from wandering.

_Enjoy it while it lasts, before he wakes up and says he's sorry it ever happened_. For a moment she had a crazy wish to wake up like this every day. Surely that was crazy, since he wasn't interested? The moment turned into a few minutes as she savoured the feel of his body against hers. So relaxed. She dreaded the idea that she would have to let go.

He shifted. His head moved and then came back to its original place. His arm rubbed against her stomach a few times and she held her breath to keep from whimpering. His eyes opened and his movements stilled abruptly. Their eyes locked. They were only a breath apart. Both were afraid to breathe. She wanted to run a hand across his cheek. Then his shoulder. Then down his back. She remembered Lady Heather. Her stomach turned. She remained motionless, but it must have flickered in her eyes, because he drew away and began to get up. It was so hard to let go and their joined heat dissipated in the cool air, as soon as they broke contact.

He sat at the edge of her bed for a long time before he turned around and watched her. Her blouse was somewhat creased. Her eyes held a questioning underlying. He could not lie to himself. It _did _feel good. He _did _want to stay. What happened with resolving it?

He let himself smile slightly; at first a bit dryly, but then his smile grew as she returned it. The tension seeped out of the room.

"Get ready for work. I'm cooking you breakfast," he found himself saying. It was only fair to reward her for being Sara. He was staying. She couldn't wipe away the 100-watt grin even if she tired. 

Breakfast was far easier and more comfortable than the previous one had been. He was surprised how he had ever managed to keep himself away from her for so long and not so surprised at how enjoyable her company was. He couldn't count the number of cases he had avoided working with her and now they were just on the second and already further along than they had started. 

Sara once again grew quiet as they made their way to their original destination. It was bad enough he let himself get involved with a suspect, but why would he drag her into this now? Sara knew, inwardly, that she was already involved whether she chose to be or not. The dull ache returned at the prospect that it was actually true, and that was proof enough in itself. She wished it would just stop hurting, but as they neared Heather's domain, it became apparent that the pain could only intensify. How many times had she warned herself not to give into fantasy relationships and get possessive over something that wasn't hers? But as she woke up encircled in his warm embrace, it felt as though he was hers alone. Didn't it?

*        *         *         *         *

We're getting to the LH scene, don't worry! I just thought you might enjoy a little… interlude! I'll try to hurry with the next chapter! Thanks again for the reviews! I'll try my best to finish this story soon!  – JM:)


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